


Him

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Concerned Thomas, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Slow Burn, The Washingtons Raised Hamilton, Trans Alexander Hamilton, Worried George, ftm alexander
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-10-03 01:18:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10232447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After Hamilton's father got thrown into prison for child abuse, he was raised by the Washingtons. While growing up, he went through a transition and a rough spot of severe depression and PTSD.When his dad pays a surprise visit after he gets released, it sends Hamilton spiriling down again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a note, this story is set modernly, but they did just get freedom. So it's modernly set, but with some aspects connecting with that time era. So expect texting, calling, computers, etc.  
> Also, just warning you, this story ia going to be angsty, if you didn't get that from the description or tags.

    At one drink, Hamilton could still hear his fathers voice in his head, the loud pounding voice echoing in his brain. He could distinctly feel wandering hands all over his body. Of course, that specific thing didn't happen this time, as Alex had grown stronger and was able to defend himself, his father only agreeing to leave when Alex pointed his gun at him. The memories from the same day and his childhood crowded his mind, coming through the tightly locked box he usually kept them in.

    At 5 drinks the memories, present and past, all blurred. Alex preferred the blurriness, the feeling of knowing it happened, but not sure if it happened to you or your best friend or some useless person. The detachment from the memories. He would much rather the cold bite of a razor tearing into his skin, but that would involve getting up and going home and that really just seemed like too much work for Hamilton right then.

    At 10 drinks the bartender took his keys, stopped serving him, and told him to call someone to pick him up or a taxi. Hamilton's usual big mouth couldn't come up with a witty response. "Okay," Ended up being his eloquent reply as he dug his phone out of his pocket, frowning at the blurred words that he didn't understand as he clicked to his contact list. He scrolled down and clicked a random number, really hoping it wasn't Washington or Martha. In hindsight, that idea was not a good one. But Hamilton's brain was dulled down by the alcohol abuse it got during the night.

    "Hamilton, what the hell are you doing? It's one in the morning." A deep, grumpy voice asked after 5 rings. Alex giggled, "Thomas! Hi, it's Alex!" Alexander thought back to the hostile introduction, "Oh wait, you already knew that!" He giggled again, enjoying the absolute blankness of his mind. No memories or urges, just the distant buzzing of drunkness.

    "Jesus christ, are you drunk?" Alex giggled again, "Nope, sorry, my name is Alexander Hamilton. The bar.... Um... Person wanted me to call a friend. Why? I don't need a friend. Besides, your definitely not my friend, more like arch enemy." Alex stumbled along his sentence, his words moving into each other. He heard Jefferson sigh on the line and movement. "Where are you?" Alex smiled, but kept his giggles to a minimum. "Uhhh... Hold on." He turned to the bartender, a tall built man with a buzzcut and sharp green eyes. Alexander could see himself being attracted to him if he wasn't so burly.

    "Where am I?" He asked innocently, trying to not sound like an idiot. Judging by the massive eyeroll he got, he didn't quite succeed. "Harold's Bar And Diner on 8th Street." Hamilton shot him a sweet smile and turned back to looking out the window, the blurry sights of people moving around the streets, doing whatever sins they deemed acceptable in the dead of night. He brought the phone back up to his ear, whining at his sore arm. "I- uh... Harold's Bar and.... Something on 8th street." He spoke into the receiver, frowing as some memories wormed their way into his drunk paradise. "I need more vadoka...." He mumbled to himself as he rubbed his arm through his red, oversized sweater. A force of habit, really, as instead of deep, irrated cuts decorating his arm, there was now a pale spiderweb if raised scars.

    "I'm on my way, and no. No, you don't. You're too drunk already." Alex smiled at Jefferson's sharp, demanding voice. He giggled again, the memories dissipating, for the moment. "Yessir." He replied, his words starting to fumble over each other. He heard another sigh and decided to look around the bar. There were the usual bar junkies with bags under their eyes and growing beards, always looking like their life fell apart. Which, truthfully, it probably did. At this time of night, the people that were looking to have fun would be on the dance floor, migrating away from the sad alcoholics chilling at the bar.

    Alexander looked at the door as it opened, just then realising Jefferson hung up. His phone's screen was now black and Hamilton shoved it into his pocket and stood up, swaying and smiling crookedly at Jefferson. He was slightly thrown off at the wrinkled button up and worn jeans Thomas was wearing, so used to the usual perfectly tailored suit that was usually decorating Jefferson's body. The man rolled his eyes at Alexander, grabbing his wrist and quickly leading him out of the building, not paying attention to Alexander's stumbled attempts to keep up, the fog of beer affecting his balance.

    Jefferson opened the passenger door to his red Porsche, shoving Hamilton into the seat, slamming the door and going around to the drivers side. Hamilton grumbled to himself, trying to distract himself from the memories he had so perfectly stored away up until this day.

    "Why are you so drunk?" Jefferson's voice cut through the silence and Hamilton briefly wondered where they were going. But the thought got tossed out quickly as he thought about Thomas' question. He chose the answer that would take less effort, the truth. "My father dropped by for a chat." He responded, looking out the window at the blur of green and brown as they passed by a forest. "Where are-" Alex got cut off by Jefferson. "Washington made you get drunk?" Alex giggled at the very thought of Washington being anything but kind to Alexander. "Uh... No... My biological father, James." Alex responded, "Where are we going?" He added on, before Thomas could ask anything else.

    "The Washingtons," The man replied and Alex's eyes widened. "No, no, no. You can't. They'll want to baby me and coddle me and make me take a break from work even though they know very well that that won't help me." Thomas' eyebrow raised, "Why exactly would they do that? It was just a talk with your bio father." Alex shook his head, sighing at the treatment he already knew he was going to get. "No. It's more than that. But that's none of your business. Just let me get this over with. If I'm lucky I'll be able to stay at work instead of taking a month off or some shit." Hamilton explained, mostly talking to himself, already beginning to sober up.

    They both sat in silence for the rest of the drive, Alex pouting and trying to make himself more presentable. Part of that was to put his hair into a man-bun, so his messy hair wasn't too obvious. He felt Jefferson's eyes on him as he put his hair up, "What?!" He snapped, the alcohol making him pissy instead of giggly. "Nothing, just you having a man-bun." Alex glared at him, "Yeah well not everyone can have your fucking dark, perfectly curled, always maintained hair. Goddman dick..." Alex muttered, knowing he would regret his behaviour later on, even if he did hate Jefferson.

    Jefferson chuckled and parked his car outside of a large manour, all the lights inside turned off, but large white lights illuminated the outside. "But they're asleepppp." Alex whined, not wanting to be coddled or a bother to his parents. "God, you're like a two year old." Was Jefferson's reply as he got out of the car and walked to Hamitlon's side, opening the door.

    Alex pouted and unbuckled, his red sweater hanging off of his skinny frame. But that's as far as he went before crossing his arms and staying put in his seat. Thomas sighed and crouched down, slipping one arm under Hamilton's legs and one under his back. Alex realised what was going on as Thomas stood at his full height and began walking to the door. His eyes widened as Jefferson started to walk. Alex did the first thing his drunken brain came up with, flailing and hitting.

    That didn't get anything but a few grunts from the other man. Hamilton stopped and crossed his arms, pouting, knowing Jefferson was in a lot better physical shape then Hamilton himself. He stared at his grey worn jeans as Thomas stopped outside of the large, white double doors leading into the large manour. "Now, can I put you down without you running or do you want to be held by me as they answer the door?" Alexander flushed and sighed, nodding moodily.

    As soon as Hamilton's feet touched the ground, he considered running, but knew he wouldn't get very far. Jefferson ate 3 healthy (mostly) meals everyday, probably worked out, judging by his abs. Not that Alex payed attention to his abs. He also got a full nights sleep most of the time, by the sound of his voice when Alexander called him at 1 in the morning. But Alexander himself skipped most meals and would stay up for 3 nights in a row before giving into a 5 hour nap or something of the like.

    Jefferson pressed down the doorbell and Alex smiled as a piano melody rang out. Obviously that would be their doorbell now. When Alexander lived there it was a simple, loud ring. Often times when it went off, it would scare Alex and he would hide in a closet or bathroom, afraid that his dad would appear to take him away. After a couple years, they switched it to a piano melody that Alexander came up with, the one that played just now. It didn't scare him after that, in fact, he smiled whenever it played, knowing that they thought his piano skills were good enough to play as the doorbell.

    As they waited for someone to answer the door, Jefferson cut through the silence. "Do you know who the artist was?" Alex's mind couldn't process the question right away, and he made a little humming noise. Then he got what the question meant and his cheeks flushed dark red, "I- um, yes." Was his response as he stared at the door, hoping for someone to interrupt the conversation.

    Thomas made a small frustrated sound, "Well, who is it?" Alex fidgeted with his sleeves, "Um... It was me... When I was 15." He replied and felt Thomas' eyes on him. "I didn't know you could play the piano." He commented as the door opened, revealing a blonde lady in her 50s, tired green eyes swooping over Thomas then Alexander. "Oh, Alex! What are you doing her, muffin?" Alex flushed deeper at the nicname, but smiled. "Hey Sadie, long time no see, huh?" He replied, hoping Thomas wouldn't say anything.

    "Yes, yes, reunions are very sweet, but we are here for a reason." Thomas cut in, destroying Alex's hopes. "Yes, dearie, of course. What is it?" She replied, and Alex smirked at Thomas getting called 'dearie'. He saw a slight flush on Jefferson's cheeks before he replied. "Alex here got drunk and called me. I figured it was best to bring him here. He told me he drank because his biological dad dropped by for a chat." Thomas explained, and saw as Sadie's eyes turned from cheerful to massively worried.

    She turned to Alexander, who was just looking around, trying to be as casual as possible. Sadie was one of their maids who had been around the longest, so she knew all about Alex's childhood. She gasped and ushered both men in, "Oh dear, I'll wake George and Martha and make you some tea. Alright, muffin?" Alex sighed, "No, no. Really, I'm fine." Sadie shot him a disbelieving stare and Alex sighed again, waving Jefferson over to the livingroom.

    "Why is your bio dad such a big deal?" Alex rolled his eyes, "Wouldn't you like to know?" He replied, trying to prepare himself for Martha's coddling and Washington's silent concern. There were hurried footsteps down the staircase a moment later, bare feet hitting the dark oak wood. A second later, Martha came into the livingroom, worried eyes looking Jefferson over but locking onto Alex. Her dark brown hair was tied up into a messy bun and her white silk robe wrinkled, probably from getting up so fast and rushing down.

    "Oh, Muffin, are you okay? Did he hurt you? Did he leave?" Alex smiled at her motherly concern and stood up, walking to her and hugging her, breathing in her familiar sweet scent of vanilla. She hugged him back tightly as Washinton appeared in the doorway. "Hey son, you okay? I heard James stopped by for a _chat._ " The chat was pronounced disbelievingly, and some worry seeped into his voice. Alex stepped back from Martha and smiled at Wahsington. "Don't worry, he didn't hurt me, just had some opinions on my current lifestyle. He left after I pointed my gun at him." Washington nodded, "You already know what I'm going to say." Alex sighed, "You know a break from work won't help me," Hamilton responded, pouting. Washington sighed and seemingly just noticed Jefferson silently watching the interaction. He nodded at the man and looked back at Alex.

    "Look, Alex, it might help you. You never know since you never take breaks." Washington commented. "I did... After the Incident. Look how well that turned out." Washington sighed again, remembering how Sadie found Alexander bleeding out in the tub, deep cuts decorating his thin wrist. "Yes, I know how that worked out. That's why Jefferson is going to be looking after you at Monticello." Jefferson stood up at that, "Sir, you can't-" Washington cut him off with a glare. "My son needs a month off of work, and I think you do to. Besides, someone needs to look after Hamilton, and I doubt he would like to stay here. Also, you both need to build a friendship, even if it a small one. I'm granting you a small liberty with letting you spend the month at Monticello. I would much rather you both stay somewhere near here, but I do understand that would be unfair to you, Thomas. You both will stay here for the rest of the night, and when it turns to day, you will go and pack and go to Monticello."

    Thomas glared at the wall like it personally offended him. "Fine, but only a month." Jefferson agreed, and everyone looked at Hamilton. "It's not like I have a choice on the matter, is it? Do you guys have a study? Well, of course you do. Is it still in the same place?" Martha stared at him and shook her head, "When's the last time you went to sleep instead of writing?" Alex sighed, "Um... Four nights ago?" Washington sent him a glare. "Yeah, your going to bed. You need your sleep." Alex rolled his eyes, "Fine, I'll show Jefferson to the guest room." He replied and waved Jefferson to follow him up the stairs. "That's what I mean by them coddling me." He commented, swaying slightly on the way to the second floor. "Coddling? I think that's them looking after you. But what's so big about your father that you need a month off?" Hamilton sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day. "Deduce it for yourself." He replied and opened a big oak door, waving Thomas in. "This is your room for the night. Enjoy." Alex said plainly and went to the door exactly opposite of the guest room and opened the door. "I'll be here. Get me if you need anything." Was the last thing he said to Jefferson before he closed the door behind him, not bothering to turn on the light.

    He already knew eveything that was in the room. But he just toed his shoes off and climbed onto the queen sized bed with a dark brown blanket and beige sheets. The bed he had gotten so familiar with in his childhood. He climbed under the blanket and feel asleep surprisingly easily. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Can you just drop me off at my house? You don't have to bring me to Monticello." Alex heard Jefferson sigh as they both headed towards the red Porsche that stood out against the soft green grass and hard, black concrete. "I wish that was an option, truly. I hate you. But it was an order from Washington and Martha seems worried about you. They didn't tell me what your bio father had to do with anything, just to inform you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I apologise for the mixup, but this story will have multiple chapters, obviously.  
> Anyways, enjoy!  
> Also, I am British, so I will spell colour with a u and other things of the like.  
> Also, all grammatical or spelling errors are all mine.

    Alex sighed as he woke up with sun shining in his face and sporting a massive headache. He threw the blanket off of himself and quickly stumbled to the bathroom, kneeling down on the floor in front of the shiny white toilet. That was all he could do before he threw up into the toilet.

    After that, he wiped his mouth off with a little tea towel that was handily placed on the counter beside the toilet. He put it back to where it was and flushed the toliet, groaning as he stood up. He walked back into his room, as stabely as he could manage. He opened the closet and smiled at the clothing from the last time he stayed at the Washington's manour. He grabbed a black pullover sweater and a white button-up undershirt. Hamilton crouched down and pulled out a pair of dark blue jeans and a pair of light grey boxers, and closed the oak wood doors of the closet. For some reason, Martha liked oak wood a lot, said it complimented the soft colours that the walls were painted. He stepped back into the bathroom and shut the door behind him.

    He locked the door and set down his clothes, pulling the glass door away from the shower so he could turn it on. As soon as he got it the correct temperature, Hamilton took off the clothes that were stained with a smell of beer and sweat. He sighed at the two scars right on the top half of his chest. Martha and Washington offered to pay for whatever surgery and medication Alexander wanted. At first he refused their money, but as everyday went by, he got more and more self-conscious of his body. So he asked for top surgery and testosterone. They payed for it willingly, wanting Alex to feel as comfortable as possible. Alex didn't feel like he deserved all the attention and money, and he still thought that, but he just didn't want to keep wearing binders to try and hide his growing body.

    He sighed and climbed into the shower, sighing for a completely different reason as the warm water hit his back and made him sigh in relief. That was probably one of the best sleeps he got in a while, which was surprising given what had happened. He stood under the spray for a minute, enjoying the hot, relaxing water. After a moment, he picked up the raspberry shampoo and conditioner he picked out when he first moved in, and that was what he used ever since then. After he cleaned and washed his hair, he grabbed the vanilla block of soap Martha gifted to him. It smelled like her, which was what Alex liked most about it. After he cleaned himself, he stood under the water for another minute before turning it off and stepping out of the shower.

    He grabbed the plush green towel hanging off of the towel rack placed on the wall beside the shower. He quickly dried himself off and threw on his clothes. Hamilton chose to ignore the way the clothes hung off off his skinny frame and how a year ago they fit perfectly. The dug his phone out of his dirty laundry and thwn picked it up. He unlocked the door and dropped his laundry into the beige hamper set beside his oak desk that used to have a laptop sat on top of it.

    He turned on his phone and cursed at the time. It was fucking noon, how come no one woke him up? He decided to leave his hair down to air dry to get rid of the annoying crinkle it got from Alex putting it up so much. He pulled on his black boots from the night before and headed down the stairs, not making much noise. It was a skill he acquired from living with James. When he reached the bottom, he turned into the livingroom and saw Thomas sitting down opposite of Martha, catching onto the end of their conversation. It was Martha telling Jefferson to keep an eye on him and make sure he ate. Of course. Alex cleared his throat.

    Jefferson stood up at that and nodded at Martha. "I guess that'll be my queue to leave. It was a pleasure to talk to you." Martha nodded back and smiled kindly. She turned to Alex and Alex walked to her, hugging her tightly once again. "Have fun, you two." She said as Hamilton pulled away. Alex smiled, not wanting to ruin his mothers mood by pouting and arguing with her. "I'll see you in a month." Alex replied and turned towards the door. Thomas followed as he left, closing the big double door behind the both of them.

    "Can you just drop me off at my house? You don't have to bring me to Monticello." Alex heard Jefferson sigh as they both headed towards the red Porsche that stood out against the soft green grass and hard, black concrete. "I wish that was an option, truly. I hate you. But it was an order from Washington and Martha seems worried about you. They didn't tell me what your bio father had to do with anything, just to inform you." Alex let out a sigh of relief at that and got into the passenger seat.

    "What if I refuse to go with you?" Alexander asked in the middle of the ride. He heard a small chuckle from Jefferson, and found himself wanting to hear more of the deep, rich sound. He quickly got rid of the thought, knowing Jefferson hated him, and the fact that Alex was trans probably wouldn't help him. "We both know how that workes out last time." The other man replied, his Virginian accent taking over slightly.

    They parked outside of Alex's apartment building. Washington offered to buy him a house, but Alex was quick to deny that. He didn't want to feel like a burden, even though Martha continually reminded him that he would never be a burden. Then another thought crossed Alexander's mind. "How did you know where I live?" Alex asked as he exited the car. Jefferson exited the car as well, "Martha told me the address. They still keep tabs on you." Alex nodded, not expecting a different answer.

    When they reached Hamilton's door, he stood on his tippy toes and grabbed the spare key from on top of the door way. He unlocked the door and saw Thomas raise his brows. "What? People don't usually look there and I have no idea where my other key is." He responded to the look, feeling defensive. He walked into his apartment, surprised at how clean in was. But then again,  he didn't go here last night. "I just need to pack a few things. You're welcome to sit down," Alex told Jefferson, gesturing to his soft black sofa.

    He headed into his room, glaring at everything that he felt had offended him. Which was pretty much everything. Alex grabbed a small suitcase with a ton of little pockets decorating it. It was the only suitcase he had, so he would have to live with doing laundry pretty regularily and borrowing Jefferson's books. He quickly chose his favourite outfits and got his toothbrush, quickly packing everything he felt he would need. Lastly he packed a couple books and his laptop, throwing in both his computer and phone chargers. He zipped up the suitcase and grabbed the handle, extending it.

    He walked out to his livingroom to see Jefferson still standing, observing the room with mild interest. Alex nodded at him and pocketed the key he set on the coffee table when he walked in. Jefferson followed him out of the door and into the hall. Jefferson closed the door behind him and Alex locked it, not that anyone would bother his apartment, even if it was mildly expensive.

    Alex sighed halfway through the drive, his fingers itching to write or do  _something_. He sighed and took out his phone, opening Google Docs. He didn't usually use his phone, but his computer wouldn't get Wi-Fi from wherever they were. His fingers flew across the screen, tapping furiously on his latest essay, writing more paragraphs. Thomas threw a glance at him with raised eyebrows. "What?" Alex retorted, his fingers still stabbing at the screen. "I'm just surprised you haven't broken that thing yet." Alex rolled his eyes and sighed as finished Para. 56, the final one he had planned.

    After that, he started a new essay, an got to paragraph 24 before they pulled up to a large, light brown manour. Alex was surprised by how nice it look. It was owned by Jefferson, so obviously it had to be horrible. Yet it was very well kept and looked homey. Hamilton opened the door and walked to the back of Thomas' Porsche, opening the trunk and grabbing his bag.

    Alex walked up the the large glass double doors. "Wow, extravagant much?" He commented as Jefferson opened the doors and gestured Alex inside. "I simply have a sense of what looks good, unlike with your apartment." Alexander rolled his eyes and looked around at the dark oak walls decorated with paintings, some abstract with swirls of colours and other solid paintings of buildings and nature landscapes. Thomas walked ahead of him, "Let me show you to the guest room." He told Alex, and began walking down the hall, turning left.

    Alex already knew he'd get lost, probably more than once, as he followed Jefferson. Suddenly, Thomas stopped and opened a oak wood door that looked identical to all the others. He nodded at Jefferson as he walked in. "If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen. You look like you need a good meal." Jefferson stated as he walked away. Alex glared at the spot that Jefferson stood in a moment ago as he began to unpack. It was going to be a long month, Hamilton knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter, but I just wanted to get it done because it might be awhile before I can update again. Just keep that in mind, okay? I'll try and update as soon as I can, though.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm planning another Jamilton fic where Jefferson and Hamilton are both teachers. (Philip is alive and in Jefferson's debate class, and also has ADHD) Does that sound interesting?

    Alex sighed as he put the last of his clothes in the dark oak wood dresser. He was sure he could feel Jefferson's southern heritage seeping through all the cracks in the walls, not that there were any. Everything in the room was neat and tidy, calm and composed just like Jefferson. But the walls were light red, he had fucking flannel bed sheets, for gods sake, and everything wood-related was oak. Hamilton remembered what Jefferson told him, but decided to not go out. He wasn't hungry, and he could take care of himself, he was a grown-ass man, not a child who needed to be cooked for and looked after by his literal arch nemesis. He might of been exaggerating a bit, but after what happened, his walls were building back up. Being dramatic helped him cope, along with sarcasm.

    He grumpily walked over the the rather large desk that sat in the room. He sat down at the, surprising comfy, you guessed it, oak chair. He opened his sleek, black laptop, smiling at the familiar background. It was of him and John at a Green Day concert that George bought them tickets for, and it was about 5 years old, but Alex still liked it. Even if John wasn't alive, Alex still liked remembering their time together. Hamilton cursed as he realised he didn't answer Lafayette's good morning text. Laf had started doing it ever since John died, quickly filling the hole in Alex's heart that John used to be in. At first, Hamilton got mad at him for trying to 'replace' John. But he got over it, eventually, and Laf soon became his closest friend. He knew about Alex's and John's relationship and how John dying affected Alex.

    Alex pulled his phone out of his pocket, wincing at the 14 missed texts and 3 missed calls. 13 texts were from Lafayette, 1 from Herc.

_Sent At: 8:30 AM_

_From: French Fuck_

_Good morning, mon chou._

_Sent At: 9:12 AM_

_From: French Fuck_

_Answer me, Alex_

The next 11 texts were just Lafayette asking if he was okay, telling him to answer, and just general freaking out in a calm manner, if someone who didn't know french read his texts to Alex. There were multiple expletives and rants. From Herc was just a simple, 'respond'.

    Hamilton sent the same text to both Laf and Hercules.

_From: A.Ham_

_To: French Fuck, Herculoni_

_Sent At: 5:36 PM_

_James stopped by. I threatened him with a gun. I got drunk. Accidentally called Jefferson. Got taken to the Washingtons. At VA. Jefferson, Monticello._

    A minute after he sent the text, he got a group clall from Laf and Herc. "Yes?"

"Are you okay, mon ami? Did he hurt you?"

"Alex, you could've stayed with me."

"Ma moitie, have you met Hamilton? He would never ask for help."

    Alex sighed, "Guys, I'm fine really. Except for the fact that I'm in Jefferson's house. Not even his apartment. His actual fucking house." Hamilton ranted, frustration in his voice. "I have to go soon, mon ami, but just call me or Herc if you need help." Alex's eyes widened, "Laf, you're in France! I can't just have you drop everything for me!" He heard Lafayette sigh, "Yes, you can. Goodbye, mon chou." With that, the call ended.

    Alex was halfway through paragraph 34 about his company's healthcare plan when he heard a knock on the door. He sighed, his fingers pausing for a second. "I'm fine!" He yelled out, continuing typing. A second later, the door opened, making Hamilton look over at the noise. It revealed Jefferson without his usual ridiculous magenta blazer, and with his shirts sleeves rolled up to his elbows. "Dinner time," Alex scoffed, looking back at his screen. "I'm not hungry, and I can take care of myself." 

    "Do you want a repeat of last night?" Jefferson asked, smug. "I'm not drunk this time, I'd like to see you try." After a moment, Hamilton yelped as he felt an arm go under his knees. He quickly rolled over, falling onto the ground with a laugh. He couldn't help it, the scene reminding him too much of the games he used to play with John when John was trying to make him take care of himself. The second that he took remembering John was wasted time, as Jefferson quickly walked over and flipped Alex over, picking him up bridal style, making Hamilton whine. "If you would just eat and take care of yourself, you wouldn't even be here, I'm guessing." Even though it was probably supposed to sound frustrated, it sounded curious instead.

    Hamilton was finally put down in front of a bar with black, sleek stools surrounding it. He raised his brow at Jefferson, knowing that he should have a dining room. "I only use my doning room when I have a large group of people visiting. Otherwise I use this," He gestured to the bar and sat down at the stool in the exact middle. He finally looked over the bar, seeing it was black & white marble with 2 bowls on top of it. Alex rolled his eyes as he sat down.

    "Mac n' Cheese? Really?" Jefferson shrugged, already eating. Hamilton sighed and picked up the fork placed by his bowl, the silver feeling cold against his skin. He began eating, not realising how hungry he was until he swallowed the first bite. He began eating quicker, ignoring Jefferson's self-satisfied smirk as he watched him. Alexander threw him a glare as he finished his last bite and stood up. "I have work to do," Was his goodbye as he started to walk away.

    After he took a couple steps, he felt a hand wrap around his wrist and rolled his eyes, ignoring the slight flip of his stomach at thw contact. "What do you want, Jefferson?" He asked, annoyance shining through his voice. "I want you to not work while you're on vacation. Come on, we're doing a movie marathon." Alex was about to retort, but fwlt himself get picked up again. His stomach did the flip thing again, but he once again ignored it. "How mang times are you going to pick me up?" Jefferson smirked down at him, and Alex hated how attractive he looked. Fuck.

    "However many times it takes for you to realise while your in my house, you are going to do minimal work, alright?" Hamilton huffed, looking away from Jefferson's face and his eyes widened at the living room. He knew Thomas was rich, so why did it even surprise him? The furniture was beige and soft, but the surprising things were the framed enlarged movie covers. Things like Star Wars and Star Trek. Hamilton smirked as Jefferson dumped him onto the couch. "Didn't know you were a nerd," Alex commented as he adjusted himself on the couch.

    He pulled out his phone as Jefferson rolled his eyes and went to get something.

_A.Ham: Jefferson's a nerd_

_French Fuck: ??_

_A.Ham: He has star wars and trek posters in his living room._

_French Fuck: mon ami, are you guys fucking?_

_A.Ham: what?!_

_French Fuck: Why are you in his living room?_

_A.Ham: what? Do you think he's fucking me over his coffee table while im texting you? No, he's forcing me to have a movie marathon instead of writing._

_French Fuck: good for you. You need a break. Maybe Thomas will be that break._

_A.Ham: i still hate him. Goodnight Lafayette. Besides, you should already be asleep._

_French Fuck: you're the one who texted me. Good night, mon chou._

    "Who're you texting?" Jefferson asked after he put down a bowl full of popcorn on the coffee table, and draped a blanket over Hamilton. Alex's face heated up as his gaze went back to the coffee table, thinking about the conversation he just had. "I- uh, Laf." He replied as Thomas crouched near a cabinet, opening it and grabbing 3 movies. Star Wars. Of course. "Isn't he in France?" Alex smiled, "Yeah, but I set his notifications for my texts as the loudest noise possible, and he doesn't know how to reset it." Thomas rolled his eyes at Hamilton as he inserted the first disc. "Strap in,"

    Hamilton ended up falling asleep in the middle of the second movie, unconsciously scooting closer to Jefferson, laying his head against his shoulder. Thomas froze and studied the man. He looked so peaceful in his sleep, his hair that he took down sometime during the first movie framing his face. His face was pale in the TV's light, none of the tired lines or angry ser of his lips that is usually decorating his features. Thomas smiled, but shook his head. Hamilton hated him, he couldn't think like that.

    Jefferson fell asleep at the end of the 3rd movie, laying his own head on top of Alex's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shortish chapter. But I hope you enjoyed! I actually don't know if this is slow burn. I think? Umm, yup, that's it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings of self-harm and panic attacks. Take care of yourselves, you're health is more important than this fic. Also, sorry for all the text conversations. It'll, after this chapter, only be mostly Alex and Laf's conversation.

    Alex snuggled closer to the warm pillow that he was wrapped around, but froze as he realised the pillow was... breathing? He slowly opened his eyes and he groaned lowly. Of course he fell asleep on top of Thomas Jefferson of all people. The other man wasn't awake, but pulled Alex closer to him in his sleep. Hamilton cursed under his breath, ignoring the warm feeling in his stomach. He pulled his phone out with as minimal movement as he could, as to not wake the other man up. He quickly pulled up his and Laf's conversation, not bothering to remember what Lafayette's time zone was.

_A.Ham: I fell asleep on him_

_French Fuck: you guys should do it already._

_A.Ham: Excuse me?!_

_French Fuck: it would diffuse the sexual tension._

_A.Ham: you're such a good friend when im about to have a panic attack_

_French Fuck: I'm sorry, Alex. Remember that breathing exercise I taught you? In for 4, hold for 7, exhale for 8._

_A.Ham: Yes, thank you. I'll text you later. Preferably when I've convinced gwash to let me come back._

   "Texting Lafayette?" Jefferson's low, groggy voice asked. Hamilton flinched at the unexpected noise, "I- uh, yeah. He wanted updates," Alexander explained, shifting in Thomas' grip, not all that comfortable, thinking that he might find out about Alex being trans. Even though he got top surgery and packed, and was not wearing a binder that would be fairly obvious if you hugged him, like he used to. He pulled up another conversation, smiling as Thomas' breath evened out as he fell back asleep.

_A.Ham: I want to come back_

_Gwash: Any exact reason why?_

_A.Ham: what if jefferson finds out? I nearly had a panic attack from waking up laying next to him on the couch, what if theres a storm? Or if he finds out about me being trans? That could make him think I'm more of a freak than he already thinks i am._

_Gwash: You're being paranoid, son. He won't think any less of you, trust me. His sister wasn't born as a girl, I hear. Knowing you aren't cis isn't going to make him respect you any less. And it's going to be fine, and I'll only take it into consideration if Thomas, or you, personally tells me you should leave, and with good reason._

_A.Ham: fine_

_Gwash: i love you, son. You know that right?_

_A.Ham: ew_

_A.Ham: i love you too_

He sighed as he turned off his phone, and looked at Jefferson's face, how peaceful and beautiful he looked without the usual scorn or mockery. Fuck. He shouldn't have those thoughts about Jefferson, of all people. He could handle having a crush on most anyone else, but thoughts of John flooded his mind. His mind saw the scene he hid away. The blood covered pavement, John's glassy eyes quickly losing life, Alex shouting at him to _just keep his eyes open, god dammit_. As the image replayed in his head, he quickly slithered out of Jefferson's arms and into the nearest bathroom.

    Come on, he had to have them somewhere, for God's sake! He opened all the drawers as quietly as he could with a panic attack coming on. There! Hamilton picked up the package with a 3-blade razor head in it. He quickly tore it open and broke the razors out of their confines. He grabbed one, knowing his aim wouldn't be to die, just to get rid of the growing panic and thoughts blurring into his head. All the you're not good enough's, and why didn't you die, and all the you let everyone down's. He rolled up his sleeves, not sparing a look at the pale spiderweb decorating his arm, and just digging the thin blade into his pale, smooth skin. He hissed and sighed in relief at the pain as he did it, watching as the cut began to leak blood. He did it more times, wincing as he went deeper every time. Damn, he thought as he slid down the pristine white wall, he cut too deep. He dropped the razor, energy and panic and feelings leaving his body relatively quickly. He sighed at the blood vibrantly standing out against Jefferson's light green rug. He would apologise to the man, if he ever got the chance, of course.

    After sitting there for about a minute, a knock sounded at the door. Hamilton groaned, the only thing he could do at his current state of being half dead. "I'm going to come in, alright Hamilton? You've been in there for a while." Alex apparently didn't have enough mental capacity to try and do anything to stop it. He heard the door creak open, and Jefferson's gasp. He felt Thomas kneel beside him, mumbling obscenities and inspecting the wounds. The curly-haired man stood up again, quickly getting his first-aid kit and returning to Alex's side. He gently picked up Hamilton's arm and opened a package that was wedged into the corner of the kit, as a sort of last thought addition. He dabbed the cuts with the antiseptic wipe, making an odd sort of noise when Hamilton whined at the sting. Jefferson finished that up and took out the roll of bandages also in the small, white box. He wrapped the wounds, not surprised when Hamilton fell asleep. After wrapping Alex up, he put all the materials back into the kit, looking at Hamilton with fondness. He knew he needed to text Washington, tell him what happened, handle getting yelled at, and tell him that if Hamilton could do this behind his back, he shouldn't be entrusted in Jefferson's care. But he had to take a moment to admire the smaller man, his soft hair that was always tied up that was now down and framing his face, void of all the anger and intensity that usually built up inside of the small vessel of his body.

    He couldn't figure out what had drawn Hamilton to do that to himself. Yes, he knew the vague outline of his life, as all people did when they worked for Washington as long as Jefferson had. His dad left, his mom died, a hurricane hit his town, he went into foster care, the Washington's adopted him, after his schooling, he began working for George, he fell in love with Lauren's, they engaged, and then John died. That's as much as anyone knew, besides George, Martha, Lafayette, and Mulligan, Thomas figured. He sighed and walked back over to the man, picking him up with frightening ease. It used to be just funny, how small the other man was, but now it just raised more questions Thomas found himself not wanting to think about. He carefully carried Alexander to the guest room he was staying in, setting him tenderly on the bed, fishing his phone out of his jeans that he didn't bother to change out of the night before.

_T.Jeffs: Alexander can't stay here._

_G.Wash: Why not?_

_T.Jeffs: He... Um... I don't exactly know the right phrasing. He found razors, and cut himself with one._

_G.Wash: fuck, is he alright?_

   Thomas' eyes widened, he never saw Washington swear, let alone type in lowercase. He shook his head.

_T.Jeffs: Yes, I got to him in time, thankfully. I believe that the next time he decides to do that type of thing, I may not be here to help him. I think he should spend the rest of his vacation at your guys' place._

_G.Wash: the same has happened here, and the fact that you got to him in time is enough for me. Just keep an eye on him, alright? And you deserve an explanation, but I think it may be better coming from Alex himself. If you can, try to get him to talk to you. The fact that you called him Alexander means something happened. Try and build your relationship._

   Jefferson sighed at the conversation, bidding Washington farewell as he exited the conversation. Great, Hamilton would have to stay. Should he tell Lafayette? No, Alexander would probably do that on his own. But Thomas did pull the small, beige armchair from the corner of the room to near Alex's bed. He wanted to be there went the Caribbean woke up. And in case he tried to do what he did again. Suddenly, Jefferson felt very awake, as opposed to when he woke up without Alexander in his arms. He knew he should've been more concerned with the budding feelings that he had for Hamilton, but all he really wanted to do was to take care of and protect the man.

    Alex groaned as he woke up, a distant throbbing in his wrist and a massive headache. He quickly put two and two together and opened his eyes, cursing as his eyes met Jefferson's, the man watching him like a hawk. "You're awake," He commented, and Alex winced at the pity and concern in the deep voice. "What did Washington say?" He asked, knowing the first thing Thomas would do was text their boss. "That I should keep a close eye on you and ask you why the  _hell_ you would do something like that." Alex sighed and closed his eyes again, refraining from trying to scratch his wounds through the bright white bandages.

    "He already knows, but I guess he told you that you should ask me instead of him telling you. Anyways, I would tell you, but it currently feels like a troll is banging on my skull." Jefferson rolled his eyes, "Will you take this seriously?! You almost died!" He hissed at Hamilton, with thinly veiled frustration. "Yes, why didn't I?! How come I can never die?! My mom died from an unidentified sickness that they couldn't cure, I had the same illness, yet I didn't die! My whole town was destroyed in a hurricane, but here I stand! God, why can't I die?" Alex muttered to himself, digging his bitten, rigid nails into his palms. After a second, a hand took his and gently forced his nails away from his palm, holding his hand tenderly, as if one wrong move would break Alexander. And at the time, Hamilton didn't doubt that even a wrong word would set him off.

    After an amount of time that Hamilton didn't count, he took his phone out of his pocket. At Jefferson's questioning glance, he said, "I have to tell Laf what happened." At that Thomas nodded, understanding.

_A.Ham: I broke the promise. Sorry._

_French Fuck: Are you okay, mon chou?_

_A.Ham: Yes, Thomas found me. He's currently sitting next to me._

_French Fuck: I'm going to text him._

_A.Ham: don't laf, it's not his fault._

_French Fuck: I'm not saying it is, I'm saying I need to talk to him. Rest, I'll call you later._

Alex sighed and put his phone down, holding Thomas' hand a bit tighter, and if the other man noticed, he didn't comment. "Expect a conversation with Laf," Alex informed Thomas, not wanting to fall asleep, knowing that he would have nightmares. And with Jefferson right next to him, he really didn't want that to happen. "And why is that?" Thomas asked and Alex shrugged. "I told him what happened, and he went into protective bestfriend mode." Thomas squeezed his hand, "It's fine." He said right as his phone chimed.

_Lafayette: Why the hell did you not tell me about Alexander?_

_T.Jeffs: I believed he would want to tell you._

_Lafayette: Next time, don't fucking assume. I'm guessing Washington is telling you that he's going to still stay in Monticello?_

_T.Jeffs: Yes_

_Lafayette: Next time something like this happens, I am going to come and bring Hamilton back to his apartment and stay with him for the rest of his vacation._

_T.Jeffs: surely that isn't necessary, you're in France!_

_Lafayette: For Alexander, I would do a lot. He is basically my brother. That is the end of this conversation._

_T.Jeffs: Goodbye, Lafayette._

   "What did he say?" Thomas was startled by Hamilton's soft voice. "Shouldn't you be asleep? And he said that if a thing like this happened again, he would fly here and take you back to your apartment and stay with you for the rest of your vacation." He heard Alex sigh at that, but he cut him off. "You should rest. Your body needs time to heal." Hamilton scoffed at that, but, surprisingly, went along. "Fine...and Thomas?" Said man 'hmmed' in response. "I- uh, just wanted to thank you... You know... It just- it wasn't my intention when I did that to die," He stumbled out, feeling quite awkward and vulnerable. He felt Thomas squeeze his hand tightly. "It's no problem, Alexander. Now go to sleep."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating that often! But please tell me what you think of this fic so far. I just want to know if you guys are enjoying it. Thank you!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINALLY FUCKING DID IT WHOOOOO (i updated) its been so long wtf and this is such a short chapter bc im kinda losing interest in this fic, so sorry.  
> 

    Alex took a bit to recognise where he was in the morning and promptly freaked out when he remembered the events of the last night. God, how could he do that in front of Jefferson? His literal worst enemy? Was Jefferson even his enemy anymore? No, this wasn't right. He needed to leave. Screw staying at Monticello. Screw Washington who felt like he needed to build his fucking relationship with Jefferson. The dark haired man was relieved to hear the shower going. Thomas probably thought that he wouldn't wake up for some time. For once, Hamilton was glad for his tendency to wake up at random times, mostly because of nightmares. Thankfully, he didn't have a nightmare this time, that would have definitely alerted Thomas that something was wrong. Alexander quietly exited the room and cursed as he heard the shower turn off, knowing he only had a limited amount of time to hide, if only for a while. He knew Thomas would find him eventually and that he had keys to every room in this house, but he just needed enough time to alert Lafayette that he couldn't do this and that he needed to leave and someone to make sure he was okay for the rest of his vacation. He felt horrible to pull Laf away from France, but he couldn't stay with his rival who had seen him with a bleeding wrist and became somewhat of a friend and that Alex was maybe developing a tiny crush on. He quickly ran down the stairs and into a random closet in the middle of a hallway. Damn, Jefferson would probably check the closets first. Too late now, Hamilton thought sadly. He moved some random cleaning supplies out of the way and saw a small trapdoor on the bottom of the floor. Perfect. A basement Jefferson probably thought didn't even exist. And he wouldn't be able to hear Jefferson, so he wouldn't feel all that guilty. Though he still knew that Thomas would be worried, he wouldn't be able to hear the extent of it.

    But, he couldn't imagine Jefferson being too torn up. Why would he care about Alex? Hamilton stopped thinking about that, knowing that that would raise the question that why would anyone care about him. He opened the little trapdoor, thankful that it only squeaked a few times, and quietly. He descended down the old wooden stairs that he didn't have as much luck with. The stairs would creak and rattle, but Alex went slow, as to not give away his location. He closed the trapdoor, silently hoping that the cleaning materials would cover the secret passage. He went down all the way, trying his best not to be freaked out by the spiderwebs. He hated spiders with a vengeance, but anything was better than confronting Thomas. Alex pulled out his phone and entered his password, thankful that he always charged his phone, leaving it at a solid 80% now.

  _A.Ham: can you please pick me up_

_French Fuck: What happened, Mon Ami?_

_A.Ham: i just cant stay here with him_   _knowing about my depression and eventually that im trans. I just cant. im sorry_

_Frech Fuck: Do not apologise, my friend. I will be there tomorrow. I will try and get there as soon as possible, but the flight is rather long. Please hold on and try to get along with Thomas_

_A.Ham: Can you text him that I'm in the basement and that I do not want to be disturbed._

_French Fuck: you know how well he follows orders from us. but I will tell him._

   Hamilton sighed and layed his head on the dusty wall, not thinking about anything besides his own stupidity and insecurity. God, Hamilton couldn't do this. Why did John have to leave? Why did he have to leave just like everyone else? Why couldn't've he just  _kept his damn eyes open?_

 _The night was clear and beautiful, the stars in the sky twinkling. Alex's hand in John's felt so right, and he smiled thinking about how far he had come. Hamilton used to be a suicidal idiot. Or at least, that's what he thought. He's been told many times, even by Jefferson of all people, that he was very smart. Though, why would a genius try and take his own life when he would meet someone like John in the future? But he hadn't known, as John had told him so many times. John, with his sparkling, sincere eyes and light freckles dusted on his face, and his loving soft smile. How could Hamilton_ not _believe all the praise that fell out of that mouth when the man he loved sounded so sincere and looked so beautiful? The moment ended though, when a man with a dark hoodie covering his face rounded the corner, holding a pistol in his hands. He pulled the hammer back and waved the gun around menacingly._

It was that day that Alex hated having such a big mouth. Alex and John had given the man all the cash they had on them, but Alex couldn't help but make an offhanded comment about the man's mother, something about not being able to afford anything for her birthday. He knew it was a dick move and very dangerous, but he was also self-destructive. So, who cared if anything happened to him? But he hadn't anticipated the way John would take the bullet for him. Oh, how he wished that he saw exactly how far John's love for him went before it was too late. How he wished he could erase the images from his head, the images of John's eyes slowly losing their unique spark and his lively, tan skin turning a ghostly pale. The way his last words were 'I love you' and now Alex couldn't do anything but blame himself for his precious Laurens' death. What he would do to take it all back, to rewind time and go down a different road or just stay silent, or push his John out of the way or anything else besides what happened in reality.

    Alex knew he was having a panic attack, one that was worse than the one he had the other day. He knew he needed help, knew he was having trouble breathing, but right then he didn't have the energy to even care.

Where the fuck could've Alex gone? Why was Thomas so stupid as to leave him alone? In Thomas' eyes, he was now a loose cannon. He knew it wasn't fair to Hamilton, but he couldn't know if the short man would hurt himself again, or worse. God, what the fuck was Thomas thinking? He felt himself stop as his phone vibrated in his pocket. He really hoped it was Lafayette possibly telling him where Hamilton was.

  _Lafayette: He's in the basement. He says he doesn't want to be disturbed. Please go check on him._

_T.Jeffs: Thank you_

_Lafayette: I will be there tomorrow to pick him up. I hope that you understand that he does not want to stay in Monticello._

_T.Jeffs: did he tell you why?_

_Lafayette: Personal reasons that you will find out someday. Now go check on him._

_T.Jeffs: Thank you, again._

Thomas speed walked to the closet he knew had the trapdoor to the basement in it. Why didn't he think of that earlier? Well, he guessed now it didn't really matter, did it? He still knew where the other man was. He opened the trapdoor slowly as to not scare Hamilton, though the dark-haired man probably already knew he was going to show up. "Come on, Alexander. Please, you don't even have to talk to me. Just please come back up here. I want to know your safe," He heard a sigh from the bottom of the stairs, but he couldn't see anything through the darkness. He then heard a rustling of fabric, which made him sigh in relief, knowing Hamilton would be coming up soon. But it didn't prepare him for what he saw when Hamilton came into the light. He had tear tracks staining his cheeks, a vacant look in his eyes, and dried blood on his palms in the shape of fingernails. Hamilton didn't meet Thomas' gaze, but Jefferson touched the man's shoulder to silently ask if he was okay. Tears began falling down the man's face again, and he leant against Jefferson's broad frame.

    "I-I'm-" Thomas' heart broke at how devastated and worn out Alex sounded. So he made a small shushing noise, "Shhhh, Darlin', 'kay? It'll all be alright, I'm right here, hun," He whispered softly to the shorter man, rubbing his back softly. In any other situation, he would've found it absolutely hilarious that he and Hamilton were hugging surrounded by a bunch of cleaning supplies, but not under these circumstances. Not under the circumstances that he felt like if he let go of the small frame of the other man, the man would slip back into whatever memory he was replaying in his head. They stood there for a while, Thomas just holding Hamilton while the man's sobs turned more into soft sniffles. "You okay, hun? Want to share whatever you were thinking 'bout?" Thomas' southern accent got stronger, as it did whenever he was stressed, worried, or angry. "J-John... H-His death... I- I saw him die..." Jefferson closed his eyes at that and layed his head on top of Hamilton's. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. It wasn't your fault, you know that right?" Judging by the sharp breath Hamilton inhaled, Thomas guessed he was right on the mark about what was upsetting the other man.

    "We- We would've both survived... If I hadn't... If I hadn't opened my mouth. God... John, he would still be here," Alex started to cry more and Jefferson felt like he wanted to cry himself. Not cry for the death of Laurens, as he hardly knew the man, but he had heard a multitude of good things about him. But cry because of the impact his death had on Alexander. "Hey, 'Lex, it's okay. You're okay, hun. C'mon, let's go, okay?" The man didn't stop crying, but did nod, and hugged tightly onto the side of Jefferson as he led him to his room. The room had a stark contrast from the guest room Hamilton was staying in. There were paintings hung on the smooth pale blue walls, and the bed sheets were varying shades of blue. "It'll all be okay, hun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im thinking of discontinuing this and starting a different Jamilton fic. Would you guys be open to that? I would still keep Alex trans bc thats how i picture him, and abuse would be a part of it, but I feel like the self-harm in this fic is a kind of overplayed cliche, soo yah. Are you guys down?? Maybe like a Teacher x Teacher thing or something.


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